


Colony of Bats Under One Roof

by MagicalStarling



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-06
Updated: 2017-04-07
Packaged: 2018-10-15 07:46:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10552678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagicalStarling/pseuds/MagicalStarling
Summary: A collection of one shots about Bruce and the Bat Family.Relationships may be tagged later.





	1. Chapter 1

Bruce groaned slightly as he came out of a deep sleep. His body felt heavy and he felt strangely detached from his body. The aches and pains accumulated the night before were slowly coming back to him. The last thing he remembered was sitting in bed looking over the files on Arkham’s security upgrades being paid for through Wayne Enterprises. Then Alfred had come in and given him tea, and then nothing. He was almost positive that his butler had drugged him.

He stirred as he slowly became more aware, trying to stretch out his sore body, but froze when he realized that something was on his chest. His eyes snapped open, fighting the heaviness and grogginess of whatever drug remained in his system. 

The first thing Bruce saw was a head of black hair and it took his brain a moment to make the connection between the head resting on his chest and his son. Damian must have come in during the night and curled up with him. He was now sound asleep his body draped across Bruce’s his hair tinkling his chin.

And he had brought the dog with him Bruce realized as he saw Titus curled up next to him, pressed against his side, the great dane snoring softly and making the air stink slightly of dog breath. And curled up next to Titus was, Tim? Bruce blinked in surprise at the sight of Tim curled up in a ball next to Titus as though trying to make himself as small as possible even though the bed was plenty big enough. 

Bruce shifted up slightly trying not to disturb Damian who grumbled in his sleep before burrowing into Bruce’s chest. Bruce’s eyes widened at the sight before him as he took in his entire bed.

Stretched out at the end of the bed was Jason, his hair a mess as he lay on his back, a line of drool coming from his mouth. Bruce couldn’t help but smirk at the sight. Jason may claim to hate him but he still spent more time in the manor than not, and then he would do things like this. Laying next to him with his feet in Jason’s face was Dick who was drooling even more then Jason. 

Barbara was curled up on Bruce’s other side, her hair falling out of her bun. She was still wearing her glasses and Bruce carefully untangled his arm from the blankets and removed them, placing them on the bedside table. Barbara's wheelchair was next to the bed he noted.

Sprawled out in the middle of the bed was Stephanie, her blonde hair spread out like a halo across the blankets. Dark bruises could be seen against her pale skin on her bare arms and Bruce made a mental note to ask her about her patrol. 

Using Stephanie’s arm as a pillow and buried under a teal comforter that she had dragged in from her room was Cass. Or at least Bruce assumed that Cass was the lump under the blanket since he wasn’t sure who else would be in his bed. 

“Why is everyone in my bed?” he muttered, grateful for the large size of his bed. The door creaked open then and Alfred poked his head in before stepping in when he saw Bruce awake, bringing in a tray of tea with him, his timing impeccable like always. Bruce raised an eyebrow at him and Alfred just gave him a questioning look though Bruce could see the glimmer of amusement in his eyes. 

Alfred placed the tray on the bedside table and poured him a cup of tea and handed it to Bruce who shifted Damian so he could sit up and take it. Though despite how careful Bruce was to not disturb him, Damian still mumbled sleepily and struck out with an arm hitting Bruce in the face before settling down again.   

“No coffee?” he asked, speaking quietly, and Alfred sent him a disapproving look.

“You need sleep sir, not caffeine.” 

“I think I got plenty of sleep thanks to you,” replied Bruce searching Alfred’s blank face.

“Yes, well, chamomile tea does help one sleep,” said Alfred after a moment of silence where Bruce waited for a response. 

“Right, chamomile,” replied Bruce taking a cautious sip of the tea.

“Is there anything else you would like sir?” asked Alfred and Bruce shook his head. Alfred left the bedroom closing the door behind him with a soft click. 

Bruce took another sip of tea and sighed as he survived the group crowded onto his bed. He noticed Titus watching him with wide brown eyes.

“How has this become my life?” he asked the dog, though of course he got no answer as he settled back with a sigh and a small smile.  


	2. Chapter 2

Bruce stood at the kitchen island working on his laptop checking out conspiracy websites. He maintained a presence on just about every conspiracy theory board, his screen name being BruceWayneIsTheBatman. He was checking to see how many people had reposted his latest post titled “BRUCE WAYNE IS BATMAN INDISPUTABLE PROOF.” The post was just a picture of Batman and Bruce Wayne both from behind with the contours of their butts drawn on in a MSPaint red line and underneath it it said ‘THE BUTTS MATCH!!! THE FACTS DON’T LIE!!!’ Though Bruce Wayne was wearing a suit in the picture and Batman had his cape so neither of their butts were clearly discernible.

He had been keeping the theory alive for several years now and had even been asked about it on a talkshow once. He had laughed at the idea and the show’s host had even pulled out a cheap Batman mask for him to put on and had he walked around pretending to be Batman and asking pretend criminals to leave or he would get his butler. 

Now the idea of the pampered billionaire Bruce Wayne being Batman was a joke with no one suggesting it being taken seriously. 

Bruce glanced up from the computer when Tim walked into the kitchen. He watched as the teenager grabbed a package of cookies and jumped up onto the counter next to Bruce and leaned over to see the computer screen. He snorted softly before cramming two cookies into his mouth. 

Bruce opened his mouth to tell him to get off the counter, but was interrupted by the door being opened with a loud bang and a furious looking Damian stomping into the room dragging his backpack behind him.

“People are idiots!” he yelled snatching the package of cookies from Tim who made a noise of protest and tried to grab them back but he started choking on the cookies he was eating. Once Tim recovered himself he leaped for Damian hands outstretched and Bruce thought it looked like he was aiming to strangle Damian. Bruce threw an arm out halting Tim mid leap and grabbed the cookies from Damian with his other hand. 

 “Bad day at school?” he asked Damian raising eyebrow as though Tim hadn’t just tried to kill him. Both boys glared daggers at each other as Bruce put the cookies away.

“Did you know that there are four kids in my class named Robin?” Damian spat out through gritted.

Bruce just stared at him unimpressed. 

“As in they’re named after Robin, the Boy Wonder!” yelled Damian.

“So?” said Tim rolling his eyes. “You’re Robin.”

“They’re not named after me!” Damian practically hissed wheeling on Tim. “They’re named after Dick because he saved their parents or something!” 

“And what’s the problem?” asked Bruce still unimpressed.

“Do you know how hard it is to not tell these idiots that they’re named after a guy so lazy that he fell asleep in the driveway last night clutching twelve containers of pringles?!” 

“So that’s where Dick was last night,” Bruce mused.

“Yeah, he’s still having a hard time since they stopped making his favorite kind of pringles,” said Tim sympathetically.

“I think he was crying,” said Damian his voice lacking any sympathy and filled with scorn.

“We all mourn in our own way,” replied Tim sagely.

“He was crying over chips!” yelled Damian throwing his hands up.

“Alfred put aside as many as he could,” said Bruce, “he should have known better than to eat them all at once.”

“But they’re chips!” cried Damian.

“I’d trade you for a container of pringles,” said Tim nonchalantly. 

Damian let out a cry that could only be described as a battle cry and launched himself at Tim knocking him off the counter. Bruce sighed as he stood over them watching them roll around on the floor. Reaching down he grabbed Damian and pulled him away from Tim and held him in the air still kicking and struggling to get free. 

“Go to your room.” 

He didn’t raise his voice, but neither boy argued knowing that it was best to not when Bruce used that voice. It was his Batman voice. Only people with a death wish, Alfred, and Jason would argue with him when he used the Batman voice.

He watched them leave before walking over to the fridge where a whiteboard was hung. He erased the number four on it and replaced it with a zero. The board was used to record how many days without incidents between Tim and Damian. They had never made it to double digits, a fact that they were both very proud of and one of the few things they agreed on.  


	3. Chapter 3

Bruce stumbled downstairs as the rest of the household ran around him in a panic to get ready for the day. Everyone was either heading to school or work. Except Bruce. His meeting with the Wayne Enterprises board wasn’t until that afternoon, but Alfred was away for the day. And that meant someone needed to make sure everyone got out of the house on time and as the most responsible adult in the house the job fell to him. 

He was exhausted and wishing he was still sleeping as he barely managed to get out of Cass’ way as she sprinted up the stairs. He could hear yelling as people searched for items and wondered vaguely if it was like this every morning. It sounded like Tim and Damian were arguing, but Bruce was too tired to do anything at the moment, he had had a long night and they hadn’t killed each other yet so he assumed they would survive long enough to get out the door. 

He went into the kitchen and began pulling out lunches from the fridge that Alfred had prepared the night before. 

“Everyone come get your lunch before you leave,” he called and everyone began filing into the kitchen. The lunches were labeled with their names and he began handing them out to each person as they entered the kitchen. 

“Cass,” he said as she snatched the lunch from his hands not slowing down as she sprinted from the kitchen. He didn’t think he had ever seen her move so fast, not even on patrol. 

“Dick, now that you have a job have you considered getting your own place?”

“Thanks Bruce, I can really feel the love,” said Dick grabbing his lunch as he finished straightening out his police uniform. “Good thing Alfred still loves me.” 

“Stephanie, I’m still waiting for your report.”

“I’ll get it to you tomorrow,” she said brushing her hair and putting lipstick on at the same time.

“You’ve said tomorrow for the past week,” pointed out Bruce.

“Look at the time!” cried Stephanie dramatically looking at her empty wrist before bolting for the door.

“Wait up Steph!” called Tim grabbing his lunch as he ran past Bruce. 

“Fuck you Tim!” yelled Damian chasing after Tim. “Get back here!”

“You need to put a dollar in the swear jar,” Bruce called after Damian before picking up the next lunch.

“Jason,” he said addressing his second oldest son, “and here I thought you didn’t live here anymore. Or at least that’s what you keep telling me.”

“Alfred makes the best lunches,” replied Jason. He watched Jason leave not even wanting to know what he was planning on doing that day. 

Bruce turned to the last lunch with a frown. The board meeting was a lunch meeting and Alfred knew that so it wasn’t for him and Barbara ate lunch with her father during the week. He picked up the lunch and read the name on it.

“Clark?” he read aloud in confusion.

“Right here,” said Clark Kent reaching over and taking the lunch from him. 

“Clark!” yelled Bruce jumping in surprise. “What the fuck are you doing here? And why did Alfred make you lunch?”

“Alfred makes really good lunches,” replied Clark as though that explained everything pushing up his glasses. Really, Bruce didn’t understand how they fooled anyone.

“Wait, does he always make you lunch? What the hell? Get out of my house!”

Clark disappeared in a blur and Bruce just stood in the kitchen staring at where he had been. What was the point of all his contingency plans in case the alien went rogue when he just walked into his house everyday?

Grumbling Bruce walked out of the kitchen. He was going back to bed, it was way too early for this. 


End file.
